


Whispers in the Dark

by seldomabsent



Category: Darkwood (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27885016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seldomabsent/pseuds/seldomabsent
Summary: Signing, you groan as you force the door open with your shovel.
Relationships: The Stranger/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Whispers in the Dark

Signing, you groan as you force the door open with your shovel. The man behind you waits patiently, quiet as usually - following you almost ever since you met. Your tired body makes you regret your hard strikes on the barricaded door but your anger for the waiting man is harder to ignore. It almost blows off the steam of your nerves. This stupid dumb sack, you think annoyingly.

As the two strangers who couldn't remember how they ended up here, you stuck together through your survival in the horrific woods. The Stranger and the Amazon, as people came to call you. You both learned from the forest, discovering new abilities to make it out alive and supporting each other through hardships. You remember being confused at first over his mutism, thinking him unable to speak until he loudly stepped into a bear trap. You would laugh at the memory of the flowery language he spat during the twenty minutes it took you to help him out of the cold iron jaw. You could. But as you hear the wood crack under your raged throws, you're trying, rather really hard, not to let yourself explode.

The man you were surviving with for the past weeks, which you didn't even know the name off -but did you even remember yours?- but grew overly fond of had dropped a bomb on you earlier. He managed over the few words he dared to share with you daily, to give you the want to finish him with your trusty shovel.

'Tomorrow, I'll burn it to the ground.'

You recall your confusion, sweet innocence as you wonder what could he possibly be talking about. You were in a swamp, how could he possibly want to burn the trees when they were more aggressive and stronger than back in the forest? Then, it hit you. The Talking Tree.

Bursting the door opened, you barely catch yourself from falling headfirst. To your surprise, a strong but gentle hand grabs your arm but your irritation for him is far from burned out. Shaking him off in a strong step away, you see his eyes grow wild at your gesture before they sadden. Great, now he is making you guilty over your rational annoyance. You hesitate for a second, his only visible face feature frowning at you, before turning your back on him.

"Let's check this and leave back for the shelter." You state harshly, not leaving room for his opinion. "It'll soon be time and the boy will get worried if we stay out too long."

Your body aching at the searching to do through this weirdly big, well-conserved house, you start your task sighing.

Still at the door, he looks over you. He knows how upset you are with him, you clearly made him feel all day about his idea. Still, he is upset too. He knows the risk of not coming out of this mission, but never did he think you would be so hurt by it. Is it because he won't let you come with him? Or the thought of preventing a possible escape? He tries to think for you but nothing makes sense. He can't know, and he sure isn't brave enough to ask you face to face. Still, you had grown on him, as heartbreaking it was for him – he couldn't deny it. You're far too strong and beautiful to notice his mere presence, yet he is beaming to be able to stay by your side. He tried many times in the past, to leave when you weren't looking so he wouldn't fall too deep.. But he realised too late he was already at the bottom, digging for more of you.

Considering his face, he barely can believe you agreed to even let him stay by your side. In the few hours of sleep he manages to get, he would get annoyed at those stupid dreams of a normal life, with you. What even was a normal life? He thinks, scoffing softly under his scarf, starting to go through a wardrobe. He has some sort of memories but they're too blurry. Still.. How pleasing it always is to lay on them, even for just a second. In a glimpse of your eyes, in a shine of your hair locks, the touch of your glove.. He has to dream a little to manage to go on, doesn't he?

"Hey." His heart misses a beat as you call for him, pathetically speeding up as your eyes meet his.

How could someone so beautiful and amazing manage to stand his horrific sight? Thank fuck for his face to be mostly hidden..

Pointing to the floor, he sees a carpet rolled over and a small trapdoor on the floor. He joins you on your observation, noticing a huge lock preventing you to open it.

"Got any lock picks?" You ask.

He's almost too happy to see your messy search through the hideout seemed to have calmed your nerves. Complying in a hurry, he puts his bag down and gets the promised item. It takes mere minutes for him to open the lock, yet as he opens it, you both frown in surprise.

"What the hell?" You voice at the ladder going down, leading into darkness.

Leaning down, he tries to see the bottom. You recked a lot of hideouts and never did traps leading to underground levels had good endings. Glancing at his bag, he knows he doesn't have enough bandages in case of a big fight - and he knows yours is empty for the reaping.

Yet, here you were going down.

"Are you mad?" He mumbles behind the scarf.

"Maybe." He merely hears you back, now too low in the dark.

Barely fidgeting for a moment, he goes after you with a silent swear. It takes him a long time, too long for his liking, to reach the end, but when he does, he groans at the darkness. He can't make out of what's in front of him and his lamp doesn't seem to want to help him much. Ending up in a wall or two while searching for you, the sudden light blinds him while the roar of a generator surprises him. Blinking away the coloured spots in his eyes, he chokes on the view before him.

In the small bunker-like basement is a full autonomous survival against the world outside. The metal walls send a huge insult to the woods as no branches or leaves seem to have overtaken it - ammos of all kind and a workshop, well more advanced than yours, are in a corner while a huge oven is in the other, surrounded by boxed and dried food - between them, a huge generator overstocked by huge gas cans.. The door on his left lets him inside a small bedroom, the bed looking extremely comfy with all the layers of duvets and cushions over it. If he thought sleep was not something needed anymore, the sight only makes him more than aware of the hurt and tension through his body.

You could easily live and die in here without a worry in the world for outside.

But the real discovery is made following your scream of victory..

"A shower!" You almost cry in joy.

Finding you in the little room adjoined to the bedroom, he takes in the small bathroom - clean, almost shining toilet, shower and sinks contained in the tiled room. Dust barely over the room, the relatively small shower makes him question when was his last before his eyes grow wide. Barely missing the boot flying over him, he falls against the doorframe as you hurried to take off the other muddy shoe.

A million questions want to pass his lips, starting by what the hell are you doing when your arms throw your jacket down and twist around your waist. The mere seconds it takes you to take off the heavy knitted sweater by mushroom Granny last an eternity for him. The sight of your bare skin flashing for a second before your shirt falls back has him more attentive than the bed. Your shirt dirtied by the mud and swamp, blood and guts still looks beautiful as it hugs your curves – until his eyesight is obstructed by

Flashing red, he stutters as he takes the once-white shirt off his face, questioning his every move and thought –so many unwanted but attractive ideas– and hurriedly turning his back of your naked back. He can hear your pants falling on the floor and soon, the drop of a lighter cloth. Her panties, he thinks before chastising himself.

No, no, no, no! Don't think about this, don't think about how naked she is, don't think about how smooth her skin can, the feeling of her on you, of the taste she can bear, the sweet mix of her newly clean skin mixed with her heavenly scent, how sweet her lips must taste, the softness of her folds against his– Stop!

Panting heavily, he tries to force himself out. He needs to breathe, to escape these haunting thoughts and ideas. Yet, as he manages to calm down, sitten on the bed and face buried in his hands, he feels trapped as you appear in front of him. Your clothes are wet, you must have washed them by hand, and your drenched locks around your face make your eyes shine even brighter in the blinding lights of the hideout. He barely manages to let out a shaky breath before your hands fall on him.

Putting your hand on his hat, he gasps as you take it off of him.

"Your turn, big guy." You chant before your surprised eye wide open at his falling hair locks.

Reaching the corner of his eyes, his much longer hair than when he first arrived made him confused. He forgot so long ago what the hell he looked like, and he was sure it wasn't that enjoyable to look at. But here you were, mouth agape and silent to his sight. Was that so horrible? Was his sight so unbearable? Insecure, he gets up to leave for the bathroom. He is too busy through the rushed self-loathing thoughts of his mind to notice you're right behind him. It's only after he sits on the toilet that he does. For an instant, everything is silent. The room, his mind, his heartbeat. It's just your eyes in his.

"You're so beautiful.." He barely hears you whisper.

The softness of your fingers slowly pulling his scarf makes him jump. He is halfway through stopping you before your other hand gently grabs his. A small smile on your lips and he is mush under your hands. Letting you pull the scarf away from his face, it falls softly on the floor. The reflection from the mirror behind you shows a rough face, covered in dirt, sweat - dried skin by the lack of hydration and rest. Still, your hand on his cheek feels like a wave of warmth and comfort against his skin. It takes him another second before he stops fighting it.

His lips against yours are reviving like he finally found the cure to the poison bitting at his soul. He knows he will regret this later, regret to ever dare to lay a hand over you - you're far too perfect and shining compared to his dark, dirty self. You deserve so much more. But for now, as your hands are gripping over his dark hair while he lifts you on the counter - he felt like, for once, everything is alright. It feels right. This feels right.

His scarf on the floor is soon followed by his coat and his shirt. Your hands are soft with his tired body, even when your urges to get closer of each other gets stronger and uncontrollable- the rough hold on his hair or the pulling of his pants down still stays gentle. For a moment, you both forget about the shit going on outside. For now, it's just you and him. It's just two lonely people trying to feel something else than the miserable, horrifying lifestyle they're forced into.

Slamming your newly naked body against the shower wall, he devours your neck and shoulder with kisses. Some end up in bits, other turns your skin darker. You never truly let go on his hair, your other hand longing over his back to get him closer. The water falls harshly on your bodies, cleaning you from the building sweat and old dirt. His hold on your waist is strong, far stronger than you could imagine, but after your continuous battle outside, you could only guess your strength grew every day. You don't expect him to fall to his knees, licking and glorifying your most intimate part in such obscene noises but you encourage him - your hand through his hair and your eyes in the sky.

For a split second, he let go of you, a sad cry breaking from your moans before his lips meet yours again in a passionate battle. His tongue is wetter and gives you a taste of yourself but your gasp as his hands find their place on your waist again to lift you against the wall makes you all the more aware of his own growing problem. You wait for a moment, waiting for him to take you but his shy eyes push you to be the one making the decision. He was waiting for your consent, you realise as his eyes close suddenly to the new sensation found.

Did you both even remember what sex felt like?

Trying to keep the pace slow, he bits into your shoulder. The ache in his stomach was as calming as burning. His arm around your waist tightens with each slam of skin, his other lost in your hair to keep him grounded and you closer. His heartbeat in his ears, yours almost beating in harmony as he stays so close to your heart. Nibbling on your nipple and licking every inch of your skin, he longs to taste for of you. He lives in each of your moan, the digging of your nails on his back, the hold of your thighs around his waist.

He is not sure he ever wants to leave you and he fears the edge he is so eager to find between your legs will only worsen the break he'll have to take from you.

Yet, here he is, roughing and hurrying the pace. You're both too lost into your overwhelming spin of emotions to notice the end coming and in a deafening finale, he feels himself fall on the shower floor. You don't move from your position, even after he feels on his knees. The water is getting colder but your tight hold on each other keeps your skin warmer to even notice it.

None of you says anything for a while.

In the softest stroke possible, you help him get rid of any dirt or mess you just made. You clean yourself from head to toe and in a tired walk, you both fell on the bed. You found back your breathing and now again, the silence was standing between you. He didn't dare to say anything, the peace he managed to keep too soothing for him to try and break it. You didn't dare to say anything, the peace you brought keeping his terrible plans at bay. Falling into each other's arms and falling asleep, you stayed this way.

Tomorrow would be another day and hopefully, the night would be of advice. But whatever happened from now on, you would be from hell and back and leave this nightmare place together.


End file.
